Other People Have Lives Too
by Belen09
Summary: A great, white mechanism floated in majestic silence, tragic in apparent destruction - yet drawing the attention of the crew of the Enterprise, who determined to examine the remains. A rewrite of the cross between the Roddenberry Federation and that of James White - because much of any universe, yet Everyman reaches out despite the inherent dangers to find . . . life.
1. Chapter 1

Other People Have Lives Too

A great, white mechanism floated in majestic silence, tragic in apparent destruction – yet drawing the attention of the crew of the Enterprise, who determined to examine the remains. A rewrite of the cross between the Roddenberry Federation and that of James White - because much of any universe is terrifying, yet Everyman reaches out despite the inherent danger to find a satisfying life.

OOOOO

"Perhaps it drifted away", commented Ensign Hoshi Sato, which caused mirth in most of the observing Bridge crew, though not in the opinion of Lieutenant Malcolm Reed who said darkly, "Probably taken for scrap."

He added, "I wouldn't be surprised if they came back for the other half." People seemed to be idly looking at the great white 'thing', much like a beached whale; he wondered if that was the reason it remained as an attractant to draw in the unwary traveler. "Best be on guard, just in case."

Normally at this junction, they might have depended on an astute observation from Commander T'Pol as to the nature of the debris; however she was currently on Vulcan, attending to some official Starfleet business that could not be delayed. Her substitute, Lieutenant Callie Peterson, sitting at the Science post merely studied her instruments, and directed a non-committal answer toward the captain.

Captain Jonathan Archer remained seated in the command chair, unlike Commander Trip Tucker who walked agitatedly around the main view screen, making it hard for anyone else to get a good look at the derelict. As chief engineer it could be supposed that his profession gave him some authority in the matter, but Reed felt disinclined to agree. Trip might know how things were put together and maintained, but it was his job to make things 'fall apart', and this had come apart in a very odd manner.

(Malcolm Reed also thought that Trip Tucker himself was coming apart 'in a very odd manner' – missing Commander T'Pol's presence. He sincerely hoped that the business on Vulcan would be concluded quickly, else he might have to detain the excitable man.)

Archer finally got the meaning of the very pointed looks that Reed had been sending him, and told his friend and subordinate Tucker, to sit down 'because he was blocking the view'. "Sorry, Capt'n," replied the southerner, "But this jus' don't make sense . . ." He walked past the Tactical Station, and sat in the seldom-used Engineering Station; being 'hands-on', most of his time was spent down in the Engine Room, next to his 'baby', the Warp Drive.

Malcolm Reed spoke up. "Captain, May I?" He gestured slightly toward the screen.

Archer frowned, but said, "Be my guest . . ." He wasn't a stickler for protocol, something that often irritated the Englishman, however at this time it was useful.

The lieutenant walked from behind the Tactical Station and stood at the edge of the view screen, and made a slight motion with his hand. Immediately a slim rod was extended from that hand – a pointer. Reed stood as though he was delivering a lecture to a group of students, ignoring a comment from Tucker – "I'm gonna have to look at what you exactly have stowed at Tactical!"

What followed was an examination of the apparent fragment of a ship; Reed directed the attention of his crewmates to both the obvious damaged section of the vessel, but also the undamaged areas, pristine, virginal in its blinding, white brilliance. It seemed that something had sliced amazingly cleanly through the body of the craft, and yet had left the rest of the vessel un-impacted.

Even the sliced part seemed suspicious. Everyone on the Bridge, including the relatively inexperienced Peterson, had seen the results of 'battles in space', where parts of the interior of the damaged ship would always raggedly spill into the 'ether'. Not this time. Nothing had come out – one could see clearly the 'in place' contents sitting quietly undisturbed. Too strange, too odd.

More than one of the aforementioned group now thought, led by Reed's report, to wonder if there were bodies sitting in the 'cut-through' sections . . . distasteful to be sure . . . but perhaps they could find out more by examining the vessel. No surprise then, that Reed recommended an examination of the derelict.

Accordingly a mission was planned to gather information.

OOOOO

A.N. Okay, this is another story that I am working on . . .

I get interested in 'fits and starts' on stories – back to other story.

Also might note that there was several decades ago, a book written about how buildings were put together – but even more interesting was a companion book about how they fall apart. If I can find the titles I'll let you know – they were both very good!

OOOOO


	2. Chapter 2

Other People, Chapter Two

OOOOO

Prilicla awoke with a start, and noted with relief that nothing had changed in its usual shipboard bed chamber, boxy and much too large, but packed with all the pillows, blankets, and other soft comfortable things that had been collected over the years. The gravity nullifier was still in operation, cushioning the delicate being from the gravity that everyone else aboard the ship required to function in a normal manner, but for the Cinrusskin would be too great to bear.

(Not the easiest experience living among the denizens of the great Sector General – Galactic Federation Hospital as the only resident member of his species, however friends at the hospital had gifted it with an abundance of such items which were gratefully accepted, save a large black pillow with eight legs that looked like a predator on Cinruss, until the legs got ripped off 'by accident', and the inside stuffing nicely fell out.)

The dream still nagged though and unease was hard to ignore. Cinrusskins were gifted (some might say cursed) with a sense of precognition, as well as the usual empathic abilities. It seemed so real, the sensation of being not in the mind of a great human doctor as was usual with the educator tapes, but rather in its own mind, but stuck horrifyingly in a human body.

Several thoughts occurred concurrently – none of which were pleasant. As a human being, flying was not possible, and it ran – panicked, through the corridors of a vessel that was totally unfamiliar. Beset with a digestive problem, Prilicla felt quite ill. Wanted to regurgitate whatever was so irritatingly vile, and yet was unable to find any place to do so without fouling the deck.

Cinrusskins and other insectoids from the home world were used to the idea of multiple digestions – it made for efficient processing of a meal. Normally he would do this in the privacy of his room, as his other crewmates who were human found it distasteful. The human body that Prilicla was in seemed to be prone to digestive problems, and was barely in control of the situation. If a waste receptacle was not found soon, it would be too late. It was at this point in the dream that Prilicla woke up.

Going back to sleep was now impossible, so Doctor Prilicla – senior physician assigned to an ambulance ship, a rescue vessel stationed at the hospital, decided to indulge in a rare treat. He opened a cabinet and reaching in, took out a small cup filled with what the humans called 'honey'.

Dr. Murchison had said that this was just one of many varieties – this one being 'clover'. He put his mouth parts directly against the surface of the sweet substance, and was rewarded with a strong taste that was quite satisfying, and giving a boost of energy. (Careful not to become too reliant on such pleasantries; it was common knowledge on Cinruss that some of his kind could become addicted to distilled nectar, and he thought/believed that this was quite similar.)

Prliicla made the decision to again look at the mission details (as far as they were known) so that he would be as ready as possible, so as to render aid and comfort for any beings involved. Accordingly he activated the screen in the wall next to his bed chamber. His flexible eyes surveyed the known information which included a video supplied by a supply ship that had come across the vessel. (They were not equipped to render aid, and other than trying to contact anyone aboard, they limited assistance to calling for help – a wise decision, as they were not equipped in the least for this kind of mission.)

The Rhabwar, that was the name of their vessel - was a space ambulance, crewed by experienced engineers, medics – including Dr. Prilicla – who could extract from almost any dire situation, beings unfortunate to require assistance. After stabilization, the patients would be transported to the Hospital, where they would receive the best treatment possible.

As for Prilicla, both his surgical skill and empathic ability were prized, the former because of his delicacy of touch, and the latter aiding in reassuring and sometimes finding patients in need. Several actually indicated that they felt comforted by the presence of the Cinrusskin native. The vast majority of beings (save those phobic of insects) were reassured by his kind words specific to the patient's mental state.

At any rate, the Rhabwar was headed toward the wreck – of what looked to be a large, white ship of unknown origin . . .

OOOOO

A.N. In case it isn't obvious, I am 'making up things' about both universes . . .


End file.
